He Couldn't Run Forever
by chatnoir06
Summary: Marius' daughter Ariadne meets a University student who is not all he claims he is, after which a murder and a misunderstanding put Ariadne in a troublesome spot.
1. A Dreadful Heat

A/N: This is NOT the school project I've been talking about. This is the creation of complete boredom in literature class, and my project supervisor hasn't gotten back to me with the revisions yet. Please stick with me if this first chapter sounds a little sappy. It gets better, I promise!  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Les Misérables, sadly. I do, however, own Ariadne, Mathieu and Madeleine, as well as various others in the story.  
  
Do enjoy and please review! ~Clazzic Mizfit  
  
================  
  
June, 1852  
  
"It's dreadful hot, isn't it?"  
  
The two girls sat underneath the large umbrella beside the cherry tree, laying back in the grass and gazing across the park. The leaves rustled in the light breeze that was still no consolation to the heat. Ariadne, looking positively on fire underneath her mess of long red locks, glanced over at Madeleine and nodded her consent.  
  
"Dreadful."  
  
The blonde Madeleine leaned back on her elbows and rolled her head back. Even in the shade of the umbrella the heat was almost unbearable. She boldly slipped down the edges of her dress over her white shoulders.  
  
Ariadne gave a low gasp. "Madeleine, fix your dress!" she said breathlessly.  
  
"But it's /hot/." Madeleine complained. "Besides, who's here to see?"  
  
The younger of the two made a sound of contempt. "It's scandalous. There could be gentlemen around." She remarked, gazing around the park as if she refused to consort with the kind of person who would show her bare shoulders in public. Madeleine rolled her eyes.  
  
"If they were gentlemen, they wouldn't be looking, now would they? Do it! You would feel much better, Aria."  
  
"I will not, thank you very much."  
  
Madeleine shrugged her bared shoulders. The girls fell silent. A breeze picked up, blowing their hair into tangles. The park was quiet and empty for once, but the rest of Paris was alive with activity, as always.  
  
Suddenly Madeleine leaned forward and gave a squeal of delight. "Ooh, Aria, look!"  
  
Ariadne turned her head in the direction that Madeleine was pointing. It was someone walking up the path. She raised a doubtful brow.  
  
"Quickly, get up." Madeleine instructed. "Make it look as if we're leaving."  
  
"But we don't have to be home for an hour." Ariadne protested. She was quite comfortable where she was, despite the heat, and didn't feel like moving for the sake of a man walking up the path.  
  
"Come on!" Madeleine tugged on Ariadne's arm. "He could be a student at the law school, don't you suppose? If he's a proper gentleman he'll stop and talk-and you know that the law students are always handsome."  
  
"I suppose," Ariadne replied, getting up and brushing the grass from her pale pink dress. She watched as Madeleine pulled up one shoulder of her dress-not both. Then she busied herself with the basket they had brought, full of wildflowers and two apples.  
  
Ariadne turned her gaze to the man coming up the path. Now that she could see him better, she supposed Madeleine might be right-he certainly had the dress of a student at the University. He had his hands in his pockets and was apparently not watching the two young women.  
  
As he approached, Ariadne went to the umbrella and started to fold it up in the pretense of leaving. The young man did not stop, even when he passed right by him. Madeleine, however, was not about to let him go so suddenly. She picked up an apple from the basket and rolled it forcefully enough so that it rolled out to the path, right in his way.  
  
The young man stopped and looked at the two young ladies, kneeling down to retrieve the apple.  
  
"Oh," Madeleine said as she rose, "I'm sorry, Monsieur."  
  
He nodded and handed her back the apple. "Not a problem, Mademoiselle." He glanced over at Ariadne and did a double-take. The young woman sensed his gaze and turned away a little, staring intently at the umbrella. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him crack a grin. He was handsome, she had to admit-shiny black hair that fell over his face in unchecked waves, and light blue eyes. She felt herself blush under his gaze.  
  
"What brings you out to the park, sir?" Madeleine asked, drawing his attention away from Ariadne.  
  
"I live by the way-just coming home from the University, is all." He replied.  
  
"Are you a student?"  
  
He smiled. "I am studying to be a lawyer." Madeleine glanced at Ariadne, smiling. The young man nodded absently for a moment, then shook his head. "Forgive me, Mademoiselle, for forgetting a proper introduction." He gave a bow. "My name is Mathieu."  
  
*Mathieu,* thought Ariadne. *What a handsome name.*  
  
"And mine is Madeleine Théateaux."  
  
Mathieu smiled and then looked over at Ariadne. "And yours, Mademoiselle? You are awfully quiet."  
  
Ariadne looked at him and smiled shyly. "Ariadne Pontmercy." She said quietly.  
  
"A beautiful name." Mathieu said, beaming. Ariadne met his gaze and dropped it. She could almost feel Madeleine glaring at her. "Perhaps we will see each other again." Ariadne smiled and nodded slowly. Mathieu looked at them both and bowed, then started to go. He stopped suddenly and looked directly at Madeleine. "By the way, did you know that the shoulder of your dress has slipped?" She stuttered over a reply and slipped the strap back up while Ariadne watched almost uncomfortably. Mathieu gave her a final grin and went on his way.  
  
As soon as he was gone, Madeleine put the apple back in her basket rather violently and started to go. Ariadne faltered a moment and picked up the folded umbrella, running after her.  
  
"Wait, Mattie. What's the matter?"  
  
But Madeleine said nothing to her the whole way home. Ariadne walked her to her doorstep, as always, and handed her back the umbrella. Madeleine took it roughly and turned inside without a word to her friend. Ariadne pursed her lips as the door snapped shut curtly, and then she turned to go home.  
  
~*~  
  
"You've been perfectly silent this whole meal," Marius Pontmercy said to his daughter when he noticed she had not said a word during the whole meal. "What is troubling you?"  
  
Ariadne looked up over her salad. "Nothing, Papá." She assured him.  
  
Her mother gave her a soft look. "What did you do today?" asked Cosette.  
  
"Oh.the usual, I suppose," Ariadne replied, swirling a leaf of lettuce around her plate. "Sat at the park with Madeleine is all."  
  
"Virginie says you came home early today." Marius remarked.  
  
"It was hot."  
  
Cosette and Marius shared knowing glances.  
  
Ariadne played with her salad for a little while longer, staring at the plate. "I met a boy today," she said finally.  
  
"A boy?" Marius said immediately, his tone sharp. Cosette threw him a glare.  
  
"What was his name?" she asked instead.  
  
"Mathieu." Ariadne replied, emboldened by her mother's apparent interest. "He's a student.at the University." She looked up at her father. "Just like you, Papá. He says he studies law, just like you did."  
  
"Then he's a lawyer, and lawyers are never to be trusted." Marius replied with a smirk. Ariadne smiled at her father and went back to her meal.  
  
~*~  
  
The next day was cooler, and Ariadne ventured out into the park without her umbrella. She wore the same pale pink dress as she had the day prior; it was the lightest one she owned. All the others were dark and heavy, reflective of times in her life, it seemed.  
  
She went first to Madeleine's apartment. The housemaid, Céline, let her into the parlor. Ariadne stood there quietly, her basket held before her, and watched as Céline hurried up the stairs to Madeleine's room. Ariadne thought it was odd that her friend wasn't already ready to go-it was past noon, the normal time she stopped by to pick up Madeleine. Sometimes she was already waiting on the front step for her, and bounded down gaily.  
  
Ariadne gazed around the parlor-decorated very finely. It was dark and quiet, the sleek curtains pulled tight and the shutters locked. The only light came from the half-circle window above the front door, which fell on the floor down the front hall into the dining room. The grandfather clock to the left of the door ticked methodically, a beat that Ariadne clicked out with her finger on the edge of the basket. It was no secret that Madeleine's family had money, far more than Ariadne herself could claim she would ever have. Life was not rough for her by any means, but definitely not as finely polished as the Théateaux family.  
  
After a moment, the door near the top of the stairs closed and Céline returned, looking fretful. "Mademoiselle Madeleine is ill today, miss Ariadne. She says to tell you that she will call on you when she is feeling better."  
  
Ariadne blinked. "Oh.well, thank you, Céline." She said haltingly. The housemaid gave a small bow and opened the front door, flooding bright afternoon sunlight into the parlor. Ariadne stepped out and down the front steps, taking a left toward the park.  
  
The street to the park was bustling with afternoon business. Shopkeepers along the edges of the river were re-opening their kiosks after the daily luncheon hour and students were hurrying back to the University. Ariadne kept quiet and reclusive, holding her lunch basket close.  
  
When she reached the park, it was almost as empty as when she and Madeleine had been there yesterday. She took a seat on the closest park bench, setting her basket next to her. She thought for a moment about returning home-there was no point in staying alone, after all. The sky was clouding up anyway, promising a drizzly afternoon spent in the parlor at home, stuck at the keys of the piano.  
  
A voice startled her. "Mademoiselle?" She jumped and gasped, spinning around. There was Monsieur Mathieu, the student she had met yesterday.  
  
"My pardon, Mademoiselle. I did not mean to startle you." He apologized.  
  
"No, it's no trouble, Monsieur." She said with an unconscious smile.  
  
He motioned to the bench. "May I sit?"  
  
She hastily moved the basket. "Yes, of course."  
  
Mathieu removed his black hat and sat down next to her. "Your friend, where is she?"  
  
Ariadne faltered a moment and turned to face Mathieu. "She's ill today."  
  
He gave a snort of laughter. "Ill indeed." He muttered.  
  
She furrowed a brow and turned her head innocently to the side. "What do you mean, Monsieur?" she asked inquiringly. "That's what the housemaid said."  
  
"I know it's what the housemaid said. I didn't mean that you were lying, Miss Ariadne. What I meant was that she is lying to you." Ariadne did not reply, instead looked at him with that innocent, oblivious gaze. Mathieu smiled and shook his head. "She is jealous, apparently." He explained.  
  
"Why.jealous of what?"  
  
Mathieu stared at her a moment. Ariadne did not catch the slight grin that crossed his face. "Of you, of course. Yesterday, when she called me over, she was obviously expecting a much better greeting than the one I gave."  
  
Ariadne leaned back against the bench. "Hmm.well, it doesn't sound very much like Madeleine, but I suppose you could be right." Mathieu put his arm on the back of the park bench, smiling. Off in the distance, the clouds were gathering. Ariadne looked at him suddenly. "I thought you had classes at the University? What are you doing out here in the afternoon?"  
  
Mathieu blinked, the question apparently catching him off his guard, and opened his mouth as if to reply. "Well-I don't have classes in the afternoon, you see. So I come this way on my way home."  
  
Ariadne nodded slowly and looked away shyly, sensing his gaze on her. Mathieu smiled.  
  
"It looks like rain-might I walk you home before we get stuck out here?"  
  
She looked at him again and smiled. "Well.I suppose that would be all right."  
  
Mathieu rose to his feet and held out his hand. She took it, feeling bold, and let him help her to her feet. Then she took her basket and walked with him from the park. He walked her through the streets, where he stopped at a river-side kiosk and bought a pink carnation. If Ariadne had been paying attention, she would have noticed the amount of money he had on him-far more than a student normally would have on them.  
  
He took her to her front door and handed the pink flower to her. "Tomorrow then, will I see you?" he asked. Above, the clouds started to rumble.  
  
Ariadne smiled. "I see no reason why not." She replied. Mathieu took her free hand and kissed it, raising his eyes to her and winking. She blushed but did not pull her hand away, quite taken with his charm.  
  
"A good evening to you, Ariadne." He said as he backed down the steps.  
  
"And to you, Mathieu." She said, turning for the door.  
  
Mathieu, son of Claquesous, waited until the door was closed before turning away with a grin that was almost devilish. 


	2. The Bait

A/N: Some credit has to be given to A. Bailly and his book /Le Radeau de la Méduse/, without which I could have thought of no names (Chaumérey and Guichard in particular, the rest are mine). I am really bad at thinking up English names, let alone 1800's-era French ones. And if you're wondering why Mathieu is Claquesous' son, and why I picked Claquesous in particular, it just happens to be because I think that's a really cool name and I had to link him to Patron-Minette /somehow/.  
  
The clouded skies provided a perfect cover for Mathieu when he made his way toward the river where he was to meet his gang. Patron-Minette, it was called, and had been so since the days of his father. As he drew near, he could see that he was one of the last to arrive. The rest of the gang was under the bridge, talking in hushed voices.  
  
"You're late, Claquesous." Hissed Chaumérey, holding up his lantern to see who was approaching. Mathieu held up his hand in the light that was flooding into his face. "Where were you?"  
  
"Scouting out something, is all." Mathieu explained, shoving his hands into his coat pockets once Chaumérey lowered the lantern. The others gave snorts of dubiousness. "Truly."  
  
Guichard laughed aloud. "Cover your behind all you wish, Claquesous. Me 'n Louis saw you today in the park with a wench on your arm. Scouting the area indeed."  
  
Mathieu studied Guichard for a moment. "Well, the 'wench' is what's going to get us some cash!" he whispered, leaning in.  
  
Chaumérey grinned. "Now you're getting the smarts. So, who is she?"  
  
"Some baron's daughter, or something. And she hasn't got a clue what's going on. Naïve as hell, I'm telling you this." Mathieu said with a laugh.  
  
Christophe Thénardier, the youngest of the group at about thirteen, nudged him in the side. "Easy to get and has the money."  
  
"Exactly." Mathieu replied.  
  
"But," Chaumérey interrupted. "We've got other things to do first. The robbery..?" He prompted.  
  
"Of course," said Louis. He held up two pistols and directed them toward Mathieu and Christophe. "Tomorrow night, we meet here, of course. Then, off to old Gautreau's. If we're lucky, he won't know a thing and we'll get out of there clean. But he has been known to have a housekeeper. Just to be safe."  
  
Christophe took his and pocketed it into his trousers under his coat. Mathieu, however, hesitated.  
  
"What's with you, Claquesous? Take it." Guichard prompted.  
  
Mathieu rounded on him. "And see the girl? Not with that on me."  
  
"Good thinking," muttered Chaumérey. "You keep it, Louis. Give it to him tomorrow night. In the meantime, work on the girl, see what you can get out of her." Snickers erupted from the group. "And I don't mean like that, though I'm not deterring you if you get the chance." He laughed, and Mathieu cracked that devilish grin again.  
  
~*~  
  
The next morning came pale and clear, with summery dew clinging to the grass and leaves. Ariadne awoke in a more cheerful mood than she had been in for a very long time. She sat up in bed and looked at the window, where she had put the pink flower that Mathieu had given her. The vase was crystal and reflected beams of morning sunlight, splaying a rainbow against the wall.  
  
She rose and dressed, taking special care with her hair and choice of dress. Then she bounded down the stairs into the dining room, which was unusually empty. The table was set for only one. Ariadne ventured into the kitchen, where she found Virginie.  
  
"Good morning, Mademoiselle," the maid murmured. "You're finally awake."  
  
"Finally?" Ariadne echoed. She looked around. "How late is it?"  
  
"Almost noon, Mademoiselle." Virginie replied casually, not turning to look at her. "Your parents have gone away to the market and told me just to wait for you to get up."  
  
But Ariadne was not listening, and had already gone from the kitchen and was hurrying for the foyer. Virginie caught her just as she was slipping out the door.  
  
"Where are you off to so quickly, Miss Ariadne? You haven't even eaten yet." She protested.  
  
"Don't worry, Virginie. I'm late to meet someone." Ariadne replied.  
  
"Who?"  
  
She heard just as the door closed, "Madeleine!" and then the girl was gone. Virginie watched through the lace curtain on the window as she hurried down the street toward the park. She smiled slightly and shook her head, then returned to the kitchen.  
  
~*~  
  
From the window in her bedroom, Madeleine watched the street below. The clock had just rung noonday, and Ariadne had not yet arrived to pick her up. She had a strong feeling that she would be spending another afternoon alone. She sat down on the windowsill and placed her forehead against the glass.  
  
There was Ariadne, bounding around the corner and apparently in very high spirits. Madeleine took notice how she was dressed, almost lavishly so. And she was making no direction to even glance towards her house. Madeleine watched her skip off towards the park. She crossed her arms and then turned away from the window, pulling the curtains closed violently.  
  
~*~  
  
Mathieu was already waiting for Ariadne when she arrived in the park. He was sitting at their customary bench and turned as she approached, looking winded.  
  
"You're late," he said with a smile.  
  
Ariadne gave a laugh and slid onto the bench, very close to Mathieu. "I slept late this morning." She said. Mathieu nodded, still smiling.  
  
"But that's all right. You're here now."  
  
Ariadne laughed again and attempted to catch her breath. Suddenly Mathieu leaned toward her, and then he was kissing her.  
  
~*~  
  
A short distance away, Christophe Thénardier and Louis sat watching the couple. The boy cracked a grin.  
  
"Look at him go." He muttered.  
  
"Necking with the girl, huh?" Louis replied, squinting to see better. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Christophe nod. He himself was only a few years older than the Thénardier boy. Chaumérey had sent them both out together to keep an eye on the progress between Mathieu and the girl.  
  
"You think he actually likes her?" Christophe mused.  
  
"A waif like that?" Louis said dubiously. "I know I wouldn't, baron's daughter or no."  
  
"Couldn't convince me of that, the way he's kissing her." The boy replied.  
  
Louis snorted. "He's an actor, what do you expect?"  
  
Christophe shook his head. "Whatever the reason, it's making my stomach turn. Let's go, we can tell Chaumérey that it's a done deal now. We can go for her after we finish with Gautreau tonight." Louis grunted his consent and they rose, heading back to the city.  
  
~*~  
  
Madeleine was sitting on the steps of her apartment when Ariadne came bouncing back an hour later. At first, the carefree girl took no apparent notice of her.  
  
"You look in a good mood, Ariadne." She called from the steps.  
  
Ariadne stopped and looked at her friend. The expression on her face was one of complete obliviousness, as if she had to take a moment to remind herself who she was talking to. "Oh, hello Mattie! Are you feeling any better?"  
  
"Much." Madeleine replied bluntly. "How are you?"  
  
Ariadne giggled. "Oh, it's just the most wonderful thing, Mattie, I think I'm in love." She admitted.  
  
Madeleine didn't give any sort of reaction for a moment. "Wonderful." She said finally.  
  
"Come now, Mattie, you're not still sore about the other day, are you?"  
  
"I just don't think you should be seeing that Mathieu student." Madeleine replied.  
  
Ariadne stared at her friend for a moment. "Well-you're just jealous, then."  
  
Madeleine laughed. "Of what, Ariadne? I'll tell you something-I saw him last night walking straight past my window, heading toward the river. You /know/ that's where all the gangs hide! He's up to no good, I'm telling you this!"  
  
Ariadne stumbled over a few responses. "No-not Mathieu. It couldn't have been Mathieu."  
  
"You see that street lamp there? Right outside my window. I saw him perfectly, Ariadne. You ought to stay away before you get in trouble." Madeleine replied, standing up. "Are you going to trust me or him?"  
  
"I-I don't believe you!" Ariadne said sharply. "You're jealous, Madeleine, that's all there is to it! Ever since that first day when he didn't give you the welcome you wanted from him."  
  
"Now he's putting words in your mouth. You're not talking like the Ariadne I know, you're talking like some.some leashed pet poodle!"  
  
Ariadne's mouth fell open in astonishment. "Madeleine!" she shook her head, unable to say anything at all. Finally she turned and ran, disappearing around the corner toward her home.  
  
Madeleine stood there and watched her go, shaking her head. She sat down on the step again.  
  
She lost track of the time as she sat there, and only seemed aware that she was still there when the door to the apartment next door opened and a sharply-dressed elderly man in a cap stepped out. He spotted the teen sitting on the step and approached, clutching his cane.  
  
"What's this, Mademoiselle Madeleine? I haven't seen such a sour look on your face in years." He said. Madeleine looked over at him and smiled.  
  
"It's nothing, Monsieur Gautreau." She insisted.  
  
He stroked his grey beard and watched her, nodding his head. "Oh, all right. But I don't like to see a frown on a pretty face like yours."  
  
Madeleine rose to her feet. "Where are you off to, Monsieur Gautreau? You're dressed very nicely."  
  
He used his cane to point down the street. "I'm off to see a play, at the theatre. You have a good night now, Mademoiselle."  
  
Madeleine nodded and gave a smile, turning toward her door. The old man started down the street.  
  
~*~  
  
Across the street, Christophe sat on the corner side looking like a typical beggar, watching the old man come out of his apartment. He stopped for a moment and spoke with the girl on the steps of the apartment next door, speaking words that the boy couldn't hear. Then the old man started away down the street.  
  
Christophe grinned and picked himself up, scrambling back to Patron- Minette. 


	3. A Single Shot

"The old buzzard's out of the house. The street's empty." Christophe reported.  
  
Chaumérey poked his head around the corner. The street was empty and relatively dark. Only one street lamp was lit. "Good." He murmured. "Christophe, you stand guard out here. Louis is already around the back. If Gautreau comes back, fire off one warning shot. Mathieu and Guchard, you come with me. Have you got those pistols?" Mathieu held his up, and Guichard nodded. "It's an easy job-in and clean in ten minutes. And tomorrow, we'll be all the more well off!  
  
He gestured his head toward the street and winked to Christophe. The boy sat down at his beggar post on the street curb, tucking his own pistol under his coat. Mathieu, Guichard and Chaumérey started across the street toward the apartment.  
  
The door's lock was an easy one to pick-Guichard had it open in less than a minute. He swung the door open and then crept in, motioning for the other two to follow. Mathieu took a good look at the street around before slipping inside and pushing the door closed.  
  
Immediately Chaumérey took care to light a lamp. He picked it up and the trio made their way silently to the stairs. If Gauteau had a housekeeper, he wasn't in that night-all the better for the robbers.  
  
Upstairs, Guichard and Chaumérey went right to work with the old man's possessions and cash, heaping them into a sack. Mathieu kept watch at the top of the stairs, hidden behind the wall. He had a clear view out the hallway window-he would see Gautreau if he happened to come up the street.  
  
~*~  
  
Unfortunately, so would Christophe. And that happened to be the only place the boy was watching.  
  
Hobbling along, old Gautreau didn't see the boy crouching in the shadows across the street. He went for his key and put a hand on the doorknob-and was in for a sure surprise when it opened. He was certain that he had locked the door before he left. Hadn't he? Shrugging it aside, the old man slipped inside.  
  
Christophe whirled around, hearing the door close. He stared for a moment. "Chaumérey?" he whispered. "Mathieu?"  
  
There was no reply; the street was empty. Perhaps his ears were fooling him, the boy mused. That had to be it. Nevertheless, he fingered the hilt of his pistol, ready to fire off a shot into the night.  
  
Suddenly, from inside the house, a light flared to life. It was bright-why would Chaumérey light something so bright? He wasn't that stupid.  
  
Christophe jumped to his feet and pulled out his gun. Closing his eyes, he aimed into the air and pulled the trigger.  
  
~*~  
  
Inside the house, Mathieu heard the warning shot and froze. In the light of the room across the hall, he saw the silhouettes of Chaumérey and Guichard halt as well. Mathieu cocked back his pistol and peeped out from the hallway.  
  
What in hell was Christophe thinking?  
  
This was the thought that ran through Mathieu's mind when he saw the old man coming up the stairs. He gave a yell that was half-surprised and half a warning, and pulled the trigger to his pistol. As the sound of the explosion passed, he heard the tell-tale sound of a limp body sliding down the stairs.  
  
Suddenly Guichard and Chaumérey were behind Mathieu. Breathing hard, the killer realized he still had the gun pointed at the staircase.  
  
"Mon Dieu, Claquesous!" Guichard whispered. "You murdered Gautreau."  
  
The door at the bottom of the stairs flew open, slamming against the wall. Christophe ran in, looking bewildered. He took no immediate notice of the body lying crumpled and bleeding at the bottom of the stairs, instead looked up at the three crooks.  
  
"I'm sorry!" he squeaked. "I didn't see him till he was inside the house!"  
  
Mathieu stared wide-eyed at the body. Christophe followed his gaze down to the floor and gave a yell of fright. He jumped back, bumping into a table. "You've shot the old man!"  
  
Chaumérey pushed past Mathieu and bounded down the stairs, clearing the body. "Shut up!" he hissed to Christophe. He crouched down, peering out the windows. The street was still silent. "Lose the baggage, Guichard. We gotta get out of here. /Come on/, Mathieu! The time for guilt is once we're clear of this place!"  
  
Christophe was already gone. Mathieu shook his head and ran down the stairs, Guichard close behind him. They all slipped out the door and fled down the street.  
  
~*~  
  
From her bedroom window, a very confused Madeleine stared at the street below. A gunshot had awoken her, she was sure of it. Just after she got up from bed, a second gunshot had given a sharp report against the sky. It sounded as though it had come from the apartment next door; Gautreau's place.  
  
*Maybe I was dreaming it all,* she mused. There was nothing there, nobody in the street.  
  
Until three bodies ran past, taking fast flight against the night. One she clearly recognized, the one with the pistol in his hand.  
  
It was Mathieu.  
  
===== A/N: Yay for a reviewer! Hehe, glad you like it so far. Yep, I imagine Christophe would've been one of Gavvie's boys.dunno how he would've known though, didn't think about that.hmm. But yes! What to do with Patron- Minette without Javert to chase them around.keep reading, there's a Javert/Juliette/Etoile cameo-thing coming up soon.dun dun dun! 


	4. Getting Away

"You should have alerted us sooner!" Chaumérey said. He slammed his pistol on the table, making Christophe jump. "What were you /doing/ out there?"  
  
Patron-Minette had gathered in the basement of Louis' apartment. Chaumérey was hovering over the seated Christophe, looking rather like an inquisitor. Guichard was sitting half-concealed in shadow under the curtained window. Mathieu was looking resolved and thoughtful, standing by the door with his arms crossed. Louis was sitting on the edge of the bed in the corner, his head in his hands.  
  
"I was watching!" Christophe yelled back at Chaumérey.  
  
"The wrong side of the street!" Chaumérey snarled. "And because of you, the old man is dead!"  
  
"Don't yell at me!" Christophe said shrilly. "I didn't shoot him."  
  
"Stop it!" Mathieu said. "No body is to blame."  
  
Chaumérey rounded on him. "Not a word out of you, Claquesous."  
  
Mathieu stared at him for a moment. Guichard and Louis looked up. They could feel the tense silence. It was a feud that had lasted years; their fathers had not liked each other, either-Claquesous and Brujon were seemingly always at each other's throats as well.  
  
"As soon as the police find that body, they'll be after us. They've been after Patron-Minette since that Inspector Javert fellow. We can't stay here, unless you've a fancy for a jail cell." Chaumérey said, finally taking his gaze from Mathieu.  
  
"Where'll we go then?" came Louis' quiet murmur.  
  
"As far as the first mail car will take us." Chaumérey replied. "Go down to the postal office and ask around. We need to get moving as soon as we can."  
  
Louis rose and started up the stairs.  
  
Mathieu moved to the window. He looked out at the street, moving the curtain. "We need to bring the girl." He murmured.  
  
Guichard looked up at him. "What girl?"  
  
"Ariadne."  
  
"No hard feelings, Claquesous, but we don't need to be bringing a girl with us." Chaumérey said.  
  
"No," Mathieu said with a snort. "If we get caught, we might have a chance to get away if we've got a hostage."  
  
Guichard and Chaumérey looked at each other and grinned.  
  
"Good thinking, Claquesous." Guichard muttered. "Well then, go get her. The sun's just now coming up. We haven't much time."  
  
~*~  
  
Ariadne awoke to the sound of something hitting her window. She lay there for a minute, waiting to see if it would come again. There was a sharp tap against the window.  
  
She sat up and then went to the window and pushed it open.  
  
"Mathieu?"  
  
He looked up and moved a finger to his lips. Then he gestured for her to come down.  
  
"It's hardly dawn!" she whispered incredulously.  
  
"Come down here." Mathieu said.  
  
Ariadne licked her lips and then disappeared from the window.  
  
Mathieu crossed his arms and waited, looking around tensely as though expecting the gendarmes to come swarming out from the street corners at any moment. The street was perfectly silent. Behind him, the mail car waited patiently, the driver slumped wearily in his seat.  
  
The door of the house opened and Ariadne slipped out. She had thrown a long cloak over her shoulders. She ran to Mathieu.  
  
"What is it, Mathieu? It's so early. You look pale!" she put a hand to his face. "What's wrong?"  
  
Mathieu pulled her hand away. "Listen. I've gotten in a tiny spot of trouble. I need to go away, and I want you to come with me." He said.  
  
Ariadne stared for a moment. "What-now?" she asked. "I couldn't possibly, my parents wouldn't let me."  
  
"Forget your parents." Mathieu said, taking her wrists. The action in itself sent of a kind of warning signal in Ariadne's head-something was amiss. "This is important to me, Aria. That cart there is going to take us. But it's going to leave soon."  
  
Ariadne blinked. "Wait, Mathieu.I'd have to ask first, they wouldn't let me-what sort of trouble have you gotten into?" she whispered harshly, as if suddenly realizing what he had told her.  
  
"Shut up." Mathieu snarled suddenly. Ariadne fell silent and tried to pull away. He held her tightly. "I have to leave the city and you're coming with me. Do you love me or not?"  
  
Ariadne gaped for a moment, unable to say anything. Her wrists started to ache under Mathieu's vice-like grip.  
  
Christope poked his head out from the mail car suddenly. "Hurry up, Claquesous!" he whispered.  
  
Ariadne heard the name and started to panic. Her father had told her about someone named Claquesous once. "Part of a gang, a regular crook!" he had said.  
  
Mathieu, too, had heard the name and scowled. He started pulling Ariadne with him toward the car. She struggled, but couldn't find the nerve to scream for help. Christophe pushed open the door and Mathieu hauled her in, then looked around once more and stepped in himself, muttering to the driver to get going.  
  
Once inside, Ariadne lost the ability to speak. She pressed herself into the back of the seat. Mathieu slid in next to her. "You see? It would have been much easier if you had just done as I'd asked." He said, and kissed her forehead. She couldn't help but cringe. Sitting across from her were Christope, Chaumérey and Guichard.  
  
"Where is Louis?" Mathieu asked, leaning forward. He had a good grip on Ariadne's wrist, but she didn't dare complain.  
  
"I told him to stay." Chaumérey replied. "He has an alibi, leastways. He wasn't even near the building during the time of the murder."  
  
Ariadne felt her blood run cold. These men, and probably Mathieu as well, had just committed murder.they had killed someone! She clenched her hands together to keep them from shaking, and decided to stay as silent as possible.  
  
~*~  
  
Cosette and Marius sat at breakfast. Ariadne had not yet joined them, something that Cosette found odd. She hadn't eaten with them the day prior, either.  
  
"Virginie," she remarked to the housemaid, "Have you seen Ariadne this morning?"  
  
"I haven't, Madame. Her door is closed." Virginie replied.  
  
"She's probably still asleep, Cosette." Marius said. "Let her rest."  
  
Cosette leaned back in her chair and gazed up at the staircase in the hallway. "Something doesn't seem right, Marius. I'm going to have a look."  
  
She got up and went to the stairs. Marius leaned forward in his chair to see the hallway better. From what he could see, his daughter's door was closed.  
  
Cosette went to Ariadne's door and knocked with the knuckle of her finger. "Aria?" she called through the door. "Are you all right?" When there came no reply, she opened the door herself. The bedcovers were wrinkled and tossed onto the floor, as if Ariadne had gotten up in a hurry. The window was wide open.  
  
Cosette screamed.  
  
Marius was on his feet in an instant, running for the stairs. Cosette ran to the balustrade. "She's gone, Marius! Ariadne's gone!"  
  
~*~  
  
Madeleine paced her room. She couldn't decide what she was going to do. She had to warn Ariadne about Mathieu. He was trouble, that was for sure. But what if it wasn't really him she had seen running through the street? It was dark, after all. It could have been any random gang. And the gunshot, well, it could have been only a dream.  
  
But there was that /feeling/. She knew it was him!  
  
Madeleine went downstairs to join her parents at breakfast. She sat down and said nothing, but started her meal.  
  
"Did you see the police outside, Madeleine?" her father asked.  
  
Madeleine looked up. "What police?" she asked. Her heart began to pound.  
  
"At old Monsieur Gautreau's house. They found him dead this morning, shot at the base of his stairs." Her mother explained. Her tone was almost uncaring. "A gang, they say, but they haven't found them yet."  
  
"Dieu." Madeleine muttered. She jumped up and ran from the room. Her father rose to his feet, calling after her, but she gave no reply.  
  
Madeleine slipped outside and ran flat out to Ariadne's house. Once there, she knocked urgently.  
  
~*~  
  
"Get the door, Marius! It could be the police." Cosette called from the top of the stairs. Marius hurried to the door and opened it to see Madeleine.  
  
"Oh, Madeleine!" said Cosette as she ran down the staircase. "Do you know where Ariadne is?"  
  
Madeleine's face went pale. *She's already gone.* she thought. "I know who might have taken her."  
  
=========== A/N: Yay! I have 3 reviews!  
  
Sweet775: Thanks! Here's your update! :-)  
  
La Pamplemousse: Yes! 'Toile is coming! Well, the /thought/ of 'Toile is coming.well.yeah. Yeah, you'll know. Hehe! 


	5. Hopeless

A/N: Ach, sorry it took so long to update. District Assessments in 4 classes, what a mess. Anyway, here it is finally! Pamplemousse, here's your 'Toile cameo! :-)  
  
=========  
  
Ariadne managed to keep up the image of being outwardly calm the whole rambling trip. Inside, of course, she was quite close to breaking down. The mail car was almost silent the whole way, save for the low hum of the men's voices. She didn't catch much, unwilling to hear more about the murder they had committed. Every so often the mail car would stop and they could hear the driver get out. During these times, Ariadne would look discreetly out the window and wonder how far she would get if she flung open the door and ran for dear life.  
  
Then she would remember that she had no idea where she was, and that Mathieu still had a firm grip on her wrist.  
  
Late into the night, the mail car finally stopped, and the driver rapped on the wall. "Your stop," he said.  
  
Christophe poked his head out the window and then opened the door, climbing out. Chaumérey went next, pulling a coin from his pocket and handing it up to the driver. Guichard and Mathieu followed, the latter pulling a frightened Ariadne with him.  
  
Ariadne had barely a chance to look around before Mathieu started yanking her away. They were somewhere close to the sea, she could smell the salt in the air. It was a dark and terribly frightening place. She had never seen Paris by night, and had to wonder if it was half as bad as this place.  
  
Chaumérey was in the lead of the pack. He led them around to an alleyway. Christophe hung back and waited for the others to go through; he looked around furtively before joining them.  
  
Ariadne could feel herself trembling as they made their way through the dark alley. There were several beggars lying about, crouched in the gutters. Three prostitutes stood huddled together, cooing to the men as they passed. Chaumérey tossed them a wink but did not stop walking.  
  
After what seemed forever, they came to the end of the alleyway. Chaumérey, in the lead, motioned for them to stop and keep silent. He went to the corner and peered out cautiously into the open street. Then he gestured for the others to follow.  
  
They stepped out into the street and started making their way across the square.  
  
"Stop!"  
  
The four crooks stopped dead and looked around. Ariadne gave a quiet whimper and moved closer to Mathieu.  
  
"You're under arrest!"  
  
"Gendarmes," Chaumérey hissed, pulling out his pistol.  
  
"Put down the gun and you won't be harmed!" the voice on the loud-hailer said. They were surrounded, Mathieu deduced as he looked around.  
  
"You won't get us!" Christophe shouted suddenly, pulling out his pistol and firing into the air. The action made Ariadne scream. "Long live Patron-Minette!"  
  
The gendarmes replied with gunfire. Christophe fell back and dropped his gun. Chaumérey looked around. "Get out of here! Leave the girl!" he shouted. He and Guichard took off in one direction, and Mathieu in another.  
  
Ariadne wasn't alone for long; she started running after him and tripped. She fell hard, tasting blood and feeling a terrible pain in her arm. The gendarmes started to gather around her, calling instructions to one another. She looked up at them and managed to mutter a weak "Help." before blacking out.  
  
~*~  
  
When next she woke, Ariadne's head was pounding as if she had smashed it into a glass window. She sat up painfully and groaned. Her bed was unusually hard today. She would have to ask Virginie to turn the bedding...  
  
Ariadne opened her eyes and looked around. It took her a moment to realize that she was /not/ where she thought she had been. She was in a jail cell.  
  
She made to stand up and gasped as a pain flared in her arm. She sat down again and looked-her forearm was bandaged and blood had started to soak through. Why had happened? Where was Mathieu?  
  
Then it all came back-the trip in the mail car, the gendarmes swarming around them...the gunshots...  
  
Her head began to swim and she forced herself to her feet, stumbling toward the bars of the cell. Across the room she could see a policeman, reclined in a chair with his boots up on his desk.  
  
"Monsieur!" she said desperately, clutching the bars. This was a mistake, she didn't belong in that jail cell. The policeman looked over, rising to his feet and moving in a condescending way toward her.  
  
"Well, mad'moiselle. Mind telling me why you've found a pretty thing like yourself in a jail cell tonight?" he said, stopping about five feet away. He was a captain.  
  
Ariadne shook her head. "I have no idea why I am here...I don't even know where /here/ is, monsieur."  
  
"You're in Montreuil-sur-Mer, girlie. I think that should be enough for you, until you start explaining things to me." He looked at her for a very long time. "You remind me of someone who came in here once. A whore, she got arrested for attacking a gentleman. Looked just like you." He remarked.  
  
Ariadne clung to the bars. "But I'm not a whore, and I didn't attack anyone. This is just a mistake, Monsieur."  
  
He wasn't paying any attention. "What was her name? Fan.something. Ah, I don't remember. Inspector Javert would know. I remember that year. My first year here."  
  
"Where is Inspector Javert? Ask him, perhaps." Ariadne suggested.  
  
"Oh, he doesn't work here anymore. He died during that June inssurection. The one in Paris, you know? Ah, I bet you weren't even born yet. Suicide, they told us. Not surprised, to tell the truth. Him and his wife and daughter, not a sane one among the lot of them."  
  
"The insurrection? My father was there-at the barricades, do you remember those? He was there, he could tell you!"  
  
"But this isn't 1832 and your father isn't here. And I don't care if he was at the barricades with all those stupid rebels, because there isn't here. And here is where you are, and you're the one behind the bars."  
  
Ariadne gaped for a moment. "Please! Please, monsieur. I haven't done anything wrong, I swear it on my own life!"  
  
The captain leaned a hand on the bars. "Then why were you caught with Patron-Minette?" he asked quietly.  
  
Ariadne fell silent. "Patron-Minette?" she echoed. The man nodded his head. "I didn't know-but-I didn't know, monsieur!"  
  
"We found the boy and brought him back here just before he died. He said you had come along with them since Paris."  
  
"Christophe?" Ariadne said. Then she mentally kicked herself, for surely she would look more suspicious if she knew their names.  
  
The captain raised his eyebrows, as though he had realized the same thing. "Was that his name?"  
  
Ariadne closed her eyes and felt the tears well up behind the lids. She had no idea where she was-Montreuil-sur-Mer meant nothing to her-and she was in jail, Mathieu was probably dead somewhere, and her parents had no idea she was even gone. She had no idea what she was going to do. They could find her guilty and hang her, for all she knew.  
  
"Listen, mad'moiselle. You come up with a logical story as to why you were found in the company of Patron-Minette, and mayhaps I'll listen to it. Until then, have a seat."  
  
Ariadne looked up at him pleadingly, but he turned and walked away. She closed her eyes again and leaned her forehead against the bars, cool against her skin. It was hopeless. 


	6. First Impressions and Second Thoughts

A/N: God, it's been so very long. I kind of dropped this story, then stumbled upon it and decided to pick it up again. Much fun!

Sorry 'bout the formatting problems, this quickedit thing is being weird.

============

Madeleine stood on the step of her house, biting her fingernails and watching as, down the street, Monsieur and Madame Pontmercy spoke with the police. Cosette was in disarray, leaning on Marius as though she would collapse.

Any thoughts of revenge and hate had flown from Madeleine's mind the instant she had run to the Pontmercy's residence and told them everything she knew. She was truly concerned for her dear friend, and only regretted that she couldn't have convinced her otherwise. Mathieu was trouble and she had known it from the very beginning.

But she had no idea where Ariadne was, and had already told that to the police.

Madeleine turned around and felt a chill run up her spine. Next door, the investigators from the police were picking through Monsieur Gautreau's apartment. They had removed the body earlier that morning. She had been watching and remembered the utter horror that had gone through her body. The combined shock from seeing that and knowing that Ariadne, too, could be dead somewhere in the countryside had made her vomit.

A carriage rolled up the street and stopped in front of the Pontmercy residence. Madeleine watched Ariadne's mother and father climb into the carriage. Virginie the housemaid was standing on the front step as they rambled off toward the police station, holding a kerchief to her mouth and looking frightened.

Madeleine sat down on the front step and sighed. She didn't know what to do.

Ariadne was taken from her cell early the next morning so that the doctor could remove her bandages and redress the gunshot wound on her arm. She sat in an enclosed room silently while the elderly gentleman cleaned her wound.

"A lucky mad'moiselle, you are. The bullet grazed your arm, that's all."

Ariadne did not reply. She was looking out the window at an old factory, apparently long abandoned. Windows were shattered and the front door was ravaged by wind and rain. The brick facing was chipped and in disrepair.

"What is that place, Monsieur?" she asked quietly.

The doctor glanced over his shoulder. "Long out of business, that place. A factory for the women folk of the city. Good Monsieur Madeleine, he was the one who ran it. A good man."

Madeleine...... Ariadne thought. She thought briefly of her friend, and wondered if she knew. She wondered if she even cared.

"But he's gone now. He ran off, people said he was a convict on the run. Guess his past caught up with him." The doctor continued disinterestedly.

Ariadne nodded her head slowly.

The doctor tied her arm in new bandages and stood, showing her to the door. Outside was a guard, waiting to take her back to her cell. As they walked the hall of the police station, however, there suddenly came the sound of frantic shouting and profanity.

There was a crash, that of furniture being flung to the ground, and in the main foyer where all prisoners were held to testify their sins, Ariadne saw Chaumérey being hauled into the station by two gendarmes. He was giving up a fight and showing the two strong men what he was worth. His protests were frantic and desperate.

"You haven't got me! You can't have me! Patron-Minette will live on!" Chaumérey was shouting. When he realized that this tactic would gain him no ground, he started his excuses anew. "I didn't shoot the old man! I am innocent! Mathieu shot him!"

Ariadne stiffened at the mention of Mathieu.

The two gendarmes were struggling to keep Chaumérey in check. "You may not have shot him, but you were involved in an armed robbery, Chaumérey Brujon." One said.

Chaumérey spit on the closest gendarme. They had him on the ground in an instant. On his stomach with his hands behind his back, Chaumérey spotted Ariadne at the end of the hall.

"Her! Tell her!" he shouted.

The guard that was holding Ariadne started to pull her away.

"He's dead, girl! He never loved you! You were bait, that's all!" Chaumérey continued.

Ariadne tripped and had to be helped up by the guard. He pushed her into the cell and snapped the barred door shut. She felt dizzy and fell to her knees, covering her ears to block out Chaumérey's lies. A sob came to her lips and she wept openly.

It wasn't true. Mathieu loved her, he had told her so. He loved her!

Cosette and Marius stood up as soon as the head inspector entered the room. They had been waiting there almost a whole day; it was close to midnight now.

"We have her location, Monsieur." He said to Marius.

"Tell me where my daughter is." Cosette begged. She was clutching Marius' arm.

The inspector looked at her. "The driver of the mail car that took them had given us some information. He followed them."

Marius' patience was spent. "Just—" he paused, regaining his composure. "Please, Monsieur. Where is our daughter?"

"Your daughter is in Montreuil-sur-Mer, Monsieur." The inspector said. Cosette muttered something that sounded like "Dieu"—it was her place of birth, the place where her adoptive father had been mayor. "She has been shot, but not fatally. She is fine and residing in a jail cell until further instruction. She is, of course, innocent, but has nowhere else to go."

Cosette hid her face in Marius' jacket and he stroked her hair, sighing.

The inspector gave them a moment. "I can send word to have her brought here by carriage."

"No," Marius said. "We will go to her."

The inspector nodded his head finally. "Very well, Monsieur. I will have a carriage provided." He turned and left the room.

Cosette looked up at her husband. Perhaps there would be some hope.


End file.
